Auld Lang Syne
by Kirayoshi
Summary: Some holiday vignettes centering on Piotr Rasputin and Kitty Pryde. Kiotr all the way. Spoilers and speculations for upcoming Xrelated events.
1. Should Old Acquaintance Be Forgot

Disclaimers: All characters and situations belong to Marvel Entertainment. I'm just having a bit of holiday fun with them.

Rating: PG.

Spoilers: Astonishing X-Men, "Gifted", X-Men #165("Hark How the Bells") as well as speculations regarding upcoming events in the X-verse.

Summary: Brief Christmas/Hanukkah/New Years Eve moments in the lives of Piotr Rasputin and Kitty Pryde. Should old acquaintance be forgot...

Auld Lang Syne

By Kirayoshi

"_Maybe it's much too early in the game,  
Ah, but I thought I'd ask you just the same,  
What are you doing New Year's  
New Year's Eve?_ __

Wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight  
When it's exactly twelve o'clock that night  
Welcoming in the New Year,  
New Year's Eve…

Maybe I'm crazy to suppose  
I'd ever be the one you chose  
Out of a thousand invitations _  
You'd receive_

Ah, but in case I stand one little chance,  
Here comes the jackpot question in advance—  
What are you doing New Year's  
_New Year's Eve?"_ _  
—Frank Loesser  
"What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?"_

Chapter One

"Should old acquaintance be forgot..."

"Tim Allen."

"Edmund Gwenn."

"Tim Allen."

"Edmund Gwenn."

"Tim Allen."

"Edmund Gwenn."

Hank McCoy stood there silently, his paws securely holding the enormous sack bulging with packages, a bemused smirk splitting his blue feline muzzle as the debate continued. He would have tapped his foot impatiently on the floor, if he and his two partners weren't standing in mid-air.

"Face it, Kit, Tim Allen was better," Rachel insisted, adjusting her vest.

"In your dreams, Red," Kitty answered, running her finger along the inside of her left boot, smoothing out her yellow stocking. "Edmund Gwenn has him beat!"

"Oh, come on, Kitty," the red-haired psionic grinned, "Tim Allen was the better Santa Claus and we both know it!"

"Puh-lease! Did Tim Allen win an Oscar for his portrayal? I don't think so!"

Hank began to chuckle with a throaty growl, catching the attention of the two arguing best friends. "Something funny, Hank?" Kitty asked her teammate.

"Oh, not at all," Hank smiled, his teeth clearly visible behind the fake white beard he wore over his chin. "But consider our situation, Katherine; the three of us are currently suspended some three-hundred feet over the Mansion—with the local news predicting temperatures in the lower thirties, mind you—kept here solely by the good graces of Rachel's telekinesis," he nodded toward the redhead, "dressed as Santa Claus and two of his trusted and comely elves, awaiting a signal from Emma to begin our descent, and the two of you are arguing over which actor's performance in the role of Santa Claus was superior. Am I the only one who sees the surrealism of this whole scene?"

"Hey," Rachel answered, "it's not all that cold out anyway. Thanks largely to Ororo manipulating the air pockets so that that arctic blast we were expecting will pass right over us."

"Besides, Santa's nothing," Kitty grinned. "You should see us get into which version of Christmas Carol is better!"

"George C. Scott," Rachel insisted.

"Alistair Sim," Kitty replied.

"Ladies, please," Hank raised his voice to quiet the debate. "Remember, peace on Earth and goodwill toward men and women, right?" More quietly he added, "Besides, the definitive Christmas Carol was the one with Mr. Magoo!"

"Oh Pul-lease!" Kitty and Rachel groaned in chorus, leading to a volley of laughter from the three teammates. Lockheed flitted gingerly over their heads, his red eyes narrowing as he regarded his mistress. Kitty glanced up toward her constant companion of seven years and asked, "Something the matter, Lockheed?"

"He's probably not used to seeing you up here," Rachel suggested. "I mean, you can walk on air but you're not a flier like Ororo or Wing..." As the name escaped her lips, Rachel noted the sudden pursing of Kitty's lips, wincing at her own carelessness. "Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot about..."

"That's okay," Kitty answered quietly. "He's still dealing with Ord taking his powers. I tried to convince him to join the Christmas party, but he hasn't said whether or not he will. I hope he does; it'd help him to know that he still has friends."

"Indeed," Hank nodded solemnly as he considered Wing's predicament. He considered asking Sage if she could somehow analyze Wing's DNA, possibly 'jumpstarting' his latent mutation the way she had done for him._The final irony,_ he muttered in a low growling whisper. _I came to blows with Logan when I entertained the notion of using Doctor Rao's 'cure' on myself, while Wing received the 'cure' unwillingly._

_'Henry,'_ the voice called in his mind, _'we're ready for your dramatic entrance.'_

Shaking his head to dispel the morose turn of his thoughts, he announced, "We're on. Rachel, if you'd be so kind, nice and slow."

"Certainly," Rachel answered as she pushed slightly with her mind, lowering herself and her friends slowly.

"Oh, before I forget," Kitty added, "I didn't have a chance to stash it in Hank's bag, but I do have a gift for you, Ray. I'll give it to you after the party."

"Thanks, Kitty," Rachel smiled. "Oh, and I also have a belated Chanukah gift for you too. Of course," she added in a gentle teasing tone, "you already got what you wanted for Christmas, didn't you? Namely six-foot-six of gorgeous Russian hunk!"

"Oh, come on!" Kitty protested, blushing pink despite the slight nip in the air. "I mean, yeah, I'm glad he's alive, but it's not like we're a couple again." Rachel greeted Kitty's protest with an eyeroll that Kitty understood to mean, 'Yeah, sure.'

"Kitty, I don't suppose that Peter has returned from Siberia, has he?" Hank asked.

"I'm afraid not," Kitty answered. "He told me he wanted a week alone in his old stomping ground for awhile. Said he should be back in time for New Year's."

"Well, I've made it my New Year's Resolution," Rachel intoned solemnly, "to use his head like a basketball if he ever hurts you again."

"Easy, Ray," Kitty warned. "He's been through enough."

"That's no excuse for the crap he's pulled on you over the years. I'm sorry, Kit, but I can't forgive as easily as you do."

"Girls, please," Hank interrupted before the argument could get any harsher. "Our public awaits. We'll be touching down in about fifteen seconds. Smiles everyone, smiles!" Kitty and Rachel nodded and slipped easily into gift-giving mode, as they and 'Santa Beast' lighted down effortlessly onto the courtyard, heralding the beginning of the Xavier Institute's Christmas party.

Rachel stifled a fit of uproarious laughter as Hank presented Scott and Emma with their gifts(lighted red clown noses), and she and Kitty gleefully helped pass around gifts for each of the students. Kitty was relieved to see that Wing had indeed joined the party, even if he simply chose to hang back and not mingle with his fellow students. She made a mental note to make a counseling session with him, and prayed briefly that this one would go better than their previous session.

Later, as she prepared to take her place behind the complimentary bar that Emma had set up, her thoughts turned again to a sad-eyed Russian farmboy. She had believed for some time, since she had found him alive in the bowels of Benetech, that there was a reason for her finding him. But ever since his resurrection, he had been moody and silent. _And he's normally such a chatterbox,_ she thought ruefully, then dismissed the comment. Piotr Rasputin came from a culture that placed much stock in drama, a people that enjoyed being tragic on occasion. When he wanted to open up, he would.

_And he'll find me waiting there,_ she vowed. _Merry Christmas, Peter._ "Okay," she announced to the line forming at the bar, returning her mind to the here and now, "If any of you want the hard stuff, talk to the dragon. Remember," she warned cheerfully as Lockheed took his place beside her, "he knows who's legal and he breathes fire."


	2. Here's a Hand, My Trusted Friend

Chapter two

"Here's a hand, my trusted friend..."

December 29;

"Sorry to keep you waiting," Scott announced as he and Emma entered the Danger Room. Emma glanced at the programmed surroundings; a darkened and somewhat seedy bar, complete with a small jukebox in one corner and knife rips in the barstool upholstery. Logan, Hank, Peter and Kitty looked up from their seats in a private booth as Scott and Emma made their way towards them. Emma was informed en route to the Danger Room that Kitty had chosen the backdrop for the meeting, and understood that she once worked as a bartender while pursuing a degree in Chicago, but somehow she had imagined somewhere less seedy. Certainly not a place a former member of the Hellfire Club would frequent, but Emma admitted to herself that during her questionable youth she might have felt quite at home here.

"Emma," Kitty griped from her seat, "do you possibly own any article of clothing that doesn't display your midriff?"

"A pleasure as always, Kitty," Emma answered icily as she took her seat next to Scott, leaning toward the leader of the X-Men. Scott absently adjusted his visor and glanced secretively toward Emma, who straightened her posture, sitting almost imperiously as the meeting began.

"This will be a short meeting," Scott announced, "as we only have two items to cover today. First, there's the matter of Edward Mathews, code-name Wing. As you are aware, Ord had attacked Eddy and Hisako at the school, and injected him with the Hope Antidote, eliminating his mutant abilities."

"Before you guys say anything else," Kitty answered suddenly, "I move that Eddy not be expelled from the school. It's not his fault that he lost his powers, he shouldn't be penalized for it."

Emma smirked slightly at Kitty's outburst. "And the gold medal in the Long Jump to Conclusions goes to Katherine Pryde," she announced. "Be assured, Kitty, that Eddy will be welcome here for as long as he wishes to remain. I would appreciate it, though, if you continued trying to reach him in your counseling sessions. Hank," she addressed the blue furred geneticist, "are you still in contact with Warren Worthington?"

"On occasion, yes," Hank answered. "And you're quite right, Emma. Warren lost his wings during the Morlock Massacre, perhaps he would be able to connect with Wing. As someone who knows what it's like to lose the power of flight, perhaps Warren understands better what Eddy's going through."

Kitty was slightly taken aback at Emma's willingness to help Wing; she had expected to go fifteen rounds with her over Eddy, given Emma's ingrown prejudices regarding non-mutants. "Maybe your teaching ethics isn't as farfetched as I thought," she muttered, half to herself.

"I'm certain that if I search hard enough I'll find a compliment in there somewhere," Emma quipped, "so thank you, Kitty."

"Hank," Scott asked, "did you take a DNA sample from Wing after Ord's attack?"

"That I did," Hank answered gravely. "And I don't like the results. I can find no aberrant traces in his genetic make-up. I had considered the possibility that Hope might simply deaden mutant abilities. It seems to work like a retro-virus, rewriting DNA on the cellular level."

"What about Tessa--I mean, Sage?" Peter suggested.

"I don't see any need to bring her into this," Emma answered quickly, and Hank and Logan nodded knowingly; given that Sage had originally assumed the identity of 'Tessa' in order to spy on the Hellfire Club for Professor Xavier, relations between Sage and Emma were at the very least strained.

"I don't see why not," Peter persisted, unaware of the bad blood between the two women. "I understand that she had some ability to analyze DNA to some degree. And I understand that she somehow cured Gambit's blindness."

"As well as triggering my secondary mutation," Hank added, his voice taking on a slight melancholy. "I was never quite sure how that power of hers fully worked, myself. I'm not convinced that I want to spin that roulette wheel just yet, not if Wing's life is to be the stakes."

"Besides," Logan observed, "Sage ain't available right now anyway. She's on a case with 'Roro's team. More of a diplomatic thing, otherwise I'd be with them."

"Well," Emma declared coolly before anyone else could discuss Tessa any further, "I think we've discussed this enough for now. Kitty, you keep talking to Eddy, keep Scott and myself posted, and we'll have Warren talk to him as well. Fair enough for now?" The others nodded silently.

"And our second and last point," Scott announced. "At this time, it is my great pleasure to officially welcome our newest member back from his recent trip to Russia, Peter Rasputin." Reaching across the table, he offered his hand to Peter. "Welcome back to the X-Men, Colossus." Peter smiled slightly and accepted Scott's handshake.

"Just hope you survive the experience," Logan chuckled. Kitty absently placed her hand on Peter's shoulder, feeling his muscles relax under her touch.

"Have you considered a staff position, Piotr?" Emma asked. "We could use a new art teacher on the staff. We tried a class with Logan, and it didn't quite work." Logan smirked at the comment while Hank raised his eyebrows knowingly.

"I will consider the offer," Peter answered. "And I thank you for your warm welcome. After all that I've been through, I for one look forward to resuming my life."

"We're just glad you're back, Big Guy," Kitty smiled broadly, squeezing his shoulder. Peter regarded her with an affectionate gaze. Kitty found herself marveling at how his warm eyes could capture hers.

"Well, I move to adjourn, and leave these two alone," Emma answered pointedly, prompting Kitty to remove her hand from Peter's shoulder and slink back into her seat, feeling self conscious. The others nodded agreement and the older team members filed out of the Danger Room, leaving Peter and Kitty alone.

Kitty stood up from the table and headed for the bar. For ten awkward seconds, Kitty seemed to find the fake wood grain pattern on the Formica bar surface the most interesting thing in the room. "Uh, Peter," Kitty finally said in a halting voice, "I'm sorry about that display. I mean, I know you're still dealing with being back and all that..." Peter got up and stood behind her, placing his hand on her shoulder and slowly turning her to face him.

"Katya," Peter spoke soothingly to her, "it's okay. I tend to brood. It's a Russian thing. And for what it's worth, I meant what I said. I do want to go forward with my life." He gently lifted her chin with his right thumb and forefinger. "And you will always be a very important part of my life." His ocean blue eyes met her charcoal eyes, conveying warmth and affection...and Kitty somehow sensed something more...

Drawn into each others' gravitational pull, Kitty and Peter began to lean toward each other, into a gentle embrace. Kitty felt her heart hammering in her throat, and her hand over Peter's chest proved to her that his heart was beating wildly as well. "Peter..." she breathed as their faces inched closer together...

_"Suit up, people!"_ Emma's voice rasped through Kitty's mind like a tone-arm being jerked violently across a record's surface. _"We have a situation!"_

Kitty and Peter jumped, their embrace dissolving abruptly, and they immediately rushed out of the Danger Room. _"What's the sitch?" _Kitty asked mentally.

_"Very large reptilian monster running amock in Manhattan,"_ Emma answered.

_"Really?"_ Peter smirked sardonically. _"How quaint. We're on our way!" _

As Peter and Kitty rushed toward the locker-rooms to suit up, Kitty groaned slightly to herself. _'Glad to have you back, Big Guy!' Man, did I just go back to being thirteen again? Kitty, what the hell are you getting yourself into?_  
_  
"Ponder that one later, Kitty,"_ Emma mentally chided. _"We have a job to do."_ After a second, Emma added, _"And don't forget I'm a telepath so I know what you're thinking about me."  
_  
"Like I'm gonna hide that from you?" Kitty snarled, before filling her mind with an display of vulgarity that, if spoken, could have melted steel cable.


	3. We'll Drink a Cup of Kindness

Chapter three  
"We'll Drink a Cup of Kindness..."

Two years later;

"Forty-five! Give me forty-six!" Kitty's therapist encouraged her as her legs strained against the 25 lb weights tied to the bar on her feet, her teeth grinding at the strain.

"And forty-seven! Do you have forty-eight?" She gripped the hand holds tightly as her legs pulled the weights, struggling to finish the last of her exercise regimen, a loud groan exploding from her throat with each lift.

"Forty-nine! And fifty!" Kitty relaxed visibly, letting the pulleys slacken as leaned back. Slowly she sat up from the weight machine, wincing at the ever-present stiffness in her legs, and gingerly lifted herself to a standing position. When she didn't collapse in an ungainly heap(as she had all too frequently when her therapist began these sessions over a year ago) she breathed a sigh of relief. "And that's all for today," the therapist announced. "Hit the massage table."

"Thank God," Kitty groaned as the ever-present stiffness in her legs reasserted itself as she slowly made her way to the massage table. "Just how I want to spend the first night of Hanukkah," she groused bitterly. "Reminding myself of how weak I've become. Man I'm glad Logan can't see me now."

"Don't beat yourself up, Kitty," her therapist assured her. "Logan would be proud of how you're progressing. Just as I am."

"Thanks," Kitty made a wry face as she lay down on the table, stomach down. "I forgot, Stevie. Were you this tough on me when I was in your ballet classes?"

Stevie Hunter flashed Kitty a quirky smile as she poured a dollop of baby oil from the bottle into the palm of her hand and started rubbing her hands briskly. "No," she answered. "I was tougher. And you never let me down yet." With that, she gently massaged the back of Kitty's left thigh, her expert hands kneading sore muscles.

"I almost miss those days," Kitty admitted as she relaxed under her old friend's ministrations. "Not all of it, of course. Not the Brood, or the Hellfire Club, or Reverend Stryker or all that, but being able to move like I used to. To fight. To dance. God, I miss that."

"Hey, considering the shape you were in this time last year," Stevie reminded her as her hands moved skillfully to Kitty's other leg, "I'd say the rate of your recovery qualifies as a minor miracle."

Kitty nodded ruefully. After all that happened to her, she was amazed at the fact that she could get out of bed in the morning. Or that she could want to.

Finally, after Stevie's nimble fingers finished poking and prodding Kitty's legs, she clapped her hands and announced, "And I'm through torturing you for this week. Hit the showers."

"Thanks, Stevie," Kitty nodded as she made her way to the shower stall. There was still some stiffness, but for the most part she was slowly beginning to feel more human than she had since that last terrible mission with the X-Men.

As she turned on the water and began to soap up her legs, she could still remember when it started, during her first week back with the X-Men. That first time she phased through a hundred feet of alien metal to infiltrate Benetech's sub-basements, she sensed something wrong. She knew from experience that phasing through super-dense materials tended to put stress on her body; she preferred to dodge Logan's adamantium claws over phasing through them during their frequent sparring sessions for that reason. The Breakworld metal was more than merely super-dense. The further she traveled through the substance, the harder it felt, the more it seemed to squeeze at her. Concentrating on the task at hand, to uncover the secrets of the alien gladiator Ord's alleged cure for the mutant genome, Kitty chose to file that information away and planned to speak to Hank McCoy later.

Plans that were all but forgotten when she discovered Benetech's secret; Ord drew his 'cure' from the blood of Piotr Rasputin. Colossus. The man who sacrificed his life to end the threat of the Legacy virus.

The man whose death prompted Kitty to finally walk away from the Xavier Institute close to two years before.

The man whom Kitty could never let out of her heart.

Drained as she was from phasing herself and Peter back through that mass of Breakworld metal to reunite with the X-Men, she didn't care. Piotr was alive.

Even then, they tended to tap-dance around each other, afraid of bursting the fragile bubble of hope. Between Piotr dealing with the rise of his hated ancestor Grigori, and Kitty facing down her personal demon in the form of Ogun for one final showdown, they barely had ten minutes in the same room, before the terrible situation with the AI entity called Danger. The situation that was precipitated by the suicide of Edward Mathews, who lost his mutant gift of flight to Ord's 'cure'.

When he suggested that she shouldn't join the X-Men in facing down Danger in Genosha, something within her snapped. She demanded to know why Piotr wanted her left behind, why he seemed to think she was crowding him. She still didn't know how he had learned about her father's death in Genosha, but true to character he was thinking of her emotions, putting her ahead of himself. And then his next announcement floored her; "And to be clear, Katya, you haven't been crowding me...nearly enough."

After their confrontation with Danger in Genosha, she and Piotr seemed to fit into a more natural groove. They had taken to picnicking together, or the occasional movie, while sparring matches in the gym took on a more playful tone. But there still seemed to be a wall between them, one even she couldn't phase through. So finally he broke down the wall and made the move.

Two years later, and she could still remember that kiss. And the joyous night of passion that followed.

And within two days it all went to hell.

Emma's seeming betrayal, using the X-Men, using Kitty. Her mind raped, her memories and emotions twisted to free the monster Cassandra Nova. Before they could even recover from Nova's machinations, they found themselves on a space-ship heading to the Breakworld, along with Ord and Danger. Breakworld's tyrant, the Powerlord Kruun, planned to destroy the Earth in retaliation for the predicted destruction of Breakworld, at Piotr's hands.

So the X-Men were forced to face the aliens on their homeworld. Where all the building materials, even the very mantle of the planet, was as dense and as difficult to phase through as the mass of metal above the Benetech sub-basement.

The X-Men managed to halt Kruun's plans. Lockheed lost his life on that distant world, taking the brunt of an energy weapon that would have cleaved Kitty's skull. Colossus defeated the Powerlord in single combat, ironically fulfilling the prophecy that he would break the Breakworld, by breaking the tyranny of the Powerlords. But by this time, Kitty was in no condition to celebrate.

She had phased through the missile aimed at the Earth, a ten mile long solid mass of Breakworld metal, a bullet meant to split the Earth in two. She walked through literally miles of that substance, pushing herself past her levels of endurance with each step. By the time she had found breathable air at the tip of that gargantuan bullet, the damage had been done.

When she awakened in the Xavier Institute's infirmary, Hank McCoy informed her that she had been comatose for over a month. And then she made the mistake of trying to get out of bed, only to fall to the ground like a limp ragdoll.

As Hank had explained it to her, the native minerals of the Breakworld contained chemical compounds that acted as toxins to the nervous system. Hank had realized that Kruun's weapon was designed to launch the giant bullet at the Earth, where it would burn up in the upper atmosphere, releasing its toxins. The toxins would then dissipate into the atmosphere, rendering Earth's life-giving air poisonous. Within a week, had the X-Men not been successful in routing the missile, all life on Earth would be extinguished.

When she phased through Breakworld matter, these chemicals somehow interacted with her body. They seemed to be triggered by the presence of female hormones, which explained why Piotr was unaffected, even when she phased him through the same substances. These toxins attacked her limbs and portions of her spine, in a manner analogous to the disease multiple sclerosis. And the effect was cumulative; the more she phased, the more they collected in her system.

By the time the X-Men diverted the missile and freed her, the damage had been done. Katherine Pryde was effectively paralyzed from the waist down. She could still feel her legs, she simply couldn't move them.

All she could remember from immediately after that terrible pronouncement was Piotr's strong yet gentle arms surrounding her, as she cried over his shoulder. He whispered assurances to her that whatever ordeals she would have to face now, he would face them with her.

Hank later assured Kitty that with time and exercise, the toxins would be purged from her system and she would regain some mobility. But her dancing days were effectively over. There would always be some stiffness in her limbs and for the first few months she would require either a wheelchair or braces. He recommended a diet and exercise regimen and suggested a few therapists in the greater New York area who could assist her.

Kitty only asked one thing; did he know any therapists in Chicago? Hank only nodded, sadness evident in his leonine features.

That night she penned an impassioned farewell letter to Piotr before she quietly left the mansion. She didn't expect him to wait for her, and she wouldn't burden him with a paraplegic girlfriend. Logan drove her to the airport, and she would swear to her dying day that despite his trademark stoic expression she saw the faintest trace of tears forming in his eyes as she kissed his cheek before boarding the plane, wheeling herself onto the gangway in one of Professor Xavier's old wheelchairs.

She wasn't surprised to see her mother waiting for her at O'Hare airport, but the sight of her mother chatting amiably with her former dance instructor came as a complete shock. Stevie smiled at her former star pupil, saying, "Hank McCoy called me, said you needed a therapist."

Stevie, Kitty had learned, had moved to Chicago shortly after Kitty had rejoined the X-Men, and was enjoying a fairly successful career as a choreographer and dance instructor for the Joffrey Ballet. When Hank McCoy called her up and informed her of Kitty's condition and that she was returning to Chicago, Stevie promised Hank that she would meet her at the airport. Given Stevie's own experience with a debilitating knee injury that ended her ballet career, along with their previous history as teacher and student, Kitty was glad that Stevie had volunteered to be her therapist. Perhaps she could finally heal, both body and soul.

After an extended emotional reunion during which Kitty could only cry on the willing shoulders of her mother and her close friend, Kitty allowed them to push her toward the luggage carousel, and toward her new life.

That was over a year ago. Since then, Kitty allowed herself to fall into a familiar routine; college on the weekdays, therapy sessions with Stevie on the weekends, and part-time work at a store that sold custom computers during her off hours. True to Hank McCoy's diagnosis she was able to shed the wheelchair within three months, and now was able to get around with a carved cane of polished Wakandan mahogany, a gift from Ororo. _Queen Ororo_, she reminded herself, smiling at the memory of her being Ororo's bridesmaid when the older mutant married King T'Challa of Wakanda.

The stiffness was still there, she reflected as she stepped out of the shower and sat on a bench placed next to the stall to towel herself dry. That would probably never go away, not completely. But she was getting stronger. Despite her protestations earlier, she could feel that strength returning to her limbs. She wasn't as strong as she used to be, but she was stronger.__

But am I strong enough? She asked herself as she peered into the vanity mirror as the steam faded, seeking a trace of the scared, painfully shy girl who first joined the X-Men in the eyes of her reflection. She scowled back at the mirror, finished putting on her clothes, and headed back to Stevie's gym, cane in hand.

"Oh, Stevie," Kitty announced as she approached her therapist before saying goodbye, "You're gonna make it over tomorrow for dinner right? It's the second night of Hanukkah and Mom promised to pull out her old roast chicken recipe."

"Wouldn't miss it, Kitty," Stevie promised. "And this time I'm going to kick your butt on that dreidel game." She paused and glanced at Kitty a moment. "You planning on anything big for New Year's Eve?"

Kitty didn't answer as she collected her thoughts. Finally she said, "Not really. Maybe go to Hells' Belles and get drunk on Tinkov's or something."

Her old friend could hear the weariness in Kitty's voice, and regarded her with a knowing eye. "You still miss him," she said gently. A statement, not a question.

Kitty nodded her head as she turned away from Stevie, not wanting to risk displaying the tears she knew were coming.

Stevie stood beside Kitty and placed a gentle finger on the side of the younger woman's cheek, slowly turning her head to face her. "Kitty," she said, "I'm canceling next week's session. Just for the one week."

Kitty blinked in surprise at the announcement. "You going on vacation, Stevie?"

"No," she answered, smiling. "But you are. You should see him again." She didn't say his name, nor did she need to.

Kitty lowered her head sadly, leaning heavily on her cane. "I promised myself that I wouldn't burden him, not until I'm stronger."

Stevie chuckled slightly. "Trust me, Kitty, you're strong enough. Your legs are healing fine. Right now, you need to heal your heart. Go back to him for awhile. If Peter's still the same guy I remember, you won't be a burden."__

And to be clear, Katya, you are not crowding me...nearly enough.

Kitty shook her head as Peter's words once again echoed through her mind. "He's not in Salem right now," she admitted to Stevie. "I received an e-mail a few weeks ago from Scott; he's temporarily split up the team. Peter's in Russia with Kurt and Logan."

"Yeah, Hank told me the same thing when I called him last week." She picked up an envelop off of a nearby table, handed it to Kitty and said, "Happy Hanukkah. Hope you're passport's updated."

Kitty felt her heart thudding in her chest as she opened the envelop and scanned the contents. Ten seconds later she leaped into Stevie's arms, her stiffness forgotten as she hugged her friend. "Thank you, Stevie, thank you!" she breathed, both laughing and crying.

"You're welcome, kiddo," Stevie laughed as she returned the embrace. "But save some of that for Peter!"

* * *

"Hey, Peter," the familiarly light voice, faintly laced with a Germanic accent, called out from behind him. "Are you sure that you're going to be okay?"

The Russian mutant known to the world as Colossus turned his head heavily and nodded to his companion. "I shall be fine, Kurt. I simply wish to be alone for a few minutes."

Kurt nodded and watched silently as Peter Rasputin walked away, his footprints heavily imprinted in the fresh blanket of snow.

Peter inhaled deeply, savoring the familiar chill of December on the abandoned farm where he was born. A mild winter so far by Siberian standards, but a harbinger of harsher weather to come. He scanned the horizon ahead of him, the line of trees standing sentinel at the edge of the forest, areas of glass-clear blue sky overcoming the receding clouds. A magnificent view, worthy of his canvas and paints.

It had been six months since he even touched a paintbrush. He tried to throw himself into his art after Kitty's sudden departure, but his inspiration seemed to leave him as she did. His muse. His inspiration. His Katya.

And then, just a few months ago, the final blow. The terrible ordeal against the so-called Purifiers, in a desperate bid to protect the first mutant child born in over a year, since the event known as The Decimation. Bishop's betrayal. Professor Xavier's near-death. Scott's decision to break up the X-Men once and for all.

As long as he still had the X-Men to fall back on, there was structure in Peter's life. Even without Kitty, he could still have purpose as an X-Man. But even that avenue has been closed off, at least for the time being if not forever. So he accepted the company of his two closest friends, Kurt and Logan, and the three traveled across Europe, finally arriving at his birthplace, the Ust-Ordinsky collective farm near Lake Baikal, Siberia.

One final insult to his injured soul was an unpleasant encounter with the former Soviet agent-turned-human-weapon, Omega Red. An encounter engineered by the Russian government. Not for the first time Peter was struck with the terrible realization that, however much he loved his native country, that affection was, in so far as the government was concerned, unrequited.

Thus, even though he still recalled the warm familiarity of his birthplace, he couldn't think of it as home. He wondered if he even had a home anymore. New Year's Eve was just a few days away, but he didn't think about it. He avoided any thought of the future. Because he couldn't imagine having a future. Not without her...without...

With these sad thoughts, he turned his eyes away from the grandeur before him, and made his way back to the dacha where he, Kurt and Logan had been staying for the last week, recovering from their battle with Omega Red.

He didn't recognize the red convertible parked in front of the dacha, but clearly recognized Kurt and Logan. Kurt was animatedly embracing a stranger whose face was obscured by the fur-lined hood of a winter parka. A few seconds later the stranger turned to Logan and received a generous bear hug from the normally stoic Canadian. As he cleared the final few feet to the dacha, he was about to ask Logan what was going on, when the stranger turned to Peter, lowering the hood of her parka.

Her brown hair spilled out of the hood, and a few strands of hair began to wave softly in the breeze. Hazel eyes regarded him with amused affection, and her lips slowly stretched into a warm and welcoming smile. "Piotr," she sighed, gingerly making her way off the porch, leaning on the black carved cane in her hand as she cleared the step. "How you doing, Big Guy?"

Peter stood in open-mouthed wonder, scarcely daring to speak or blink, or do anything to break the spell. "Katya?" he whispered, fearing that this vision would disappear from his sight if he so much as moved an inch. Logan arched an eyebrow, growling, "What are you waitin' for, Bub? Kiss her already!"

The spell broken, Peter rushed forward, scooping Kitty Pryde into his arms and lifting her three feet off the ground. She barely managed to keep hold of her cane as he held her tightly, but she soon managed to recover enough to return his embrace, hugging him fiercely. The tears flowed freely and their lips joined passionately as the two lovers were reunited.

After a few moments, Peter reluctantly lowered Kitty to the ground, but still held fast to her. Kitty loosened her grip and gazed wonderingly into his deep blue eyes. "Peter," she started, her voice catching suddenly, "before we go any further, there's something I need to know?"

"What is it, Katya?" Peter asked anxiously.

Kitty opened the front of her parka halfway, reached into an inside pocket and removed a folded newspaper. She displayed the tabloid to Peter, showing a paparazzi photo of a surprised Peter, his arm linked with a figure that bore a striking resemblance to a certain tall, willowy actress. The headline screamed in 48 point type: ANGELINA AND THE X-MAN: HAS ANGIE DUMPED BRAD?

"I found this at the magazine rack at O'Hare airport," Kitty explained, her voice taking on an amused tone. "Is there something you wish to tell me? I'm a big girl, Peter, I can take it."

A muffled 'BAMF' of imploding air drew Peter and Kitty's attention, and they turned toward Logan, who was standing beside a dissipating black cloud that smelled of brimstone. Logan just shrugged his shoulders in a gesture of mock innocence. Kitty struggled mightily for a few seconds before surrendering to a fit of mirthful laughter at Peter's expense.

Peter's shout echoed across Lake Baikal for miles; "KURT WAGNER!"


End file.
